Angel awoke with a big yawn and a languid stretch. That pillow had been so soft! Compared to her usual bedding, it was as if she had been transported to a whole new world of comfort. She rolled upright and looked around with quick darts of her head. There was Trash, sleeping with little equine noises.

She inclined her head faintly before approaching. She may never have a better time to inspect the strange stallion(?), or so she silently decided. The scent he put off was that of a mare. This made sense enough, her eyes resting on his mare parts, exposed as they were. Not that ponies typically wore much over their back ends.

Not that Angel did either. That wasn't a big deal, until someone sent such confusing signals and confused her... Angel sniffed softly as she leaned in, getting a whiff of his front, working over his head and mane. He had some un-pony scent worked in. Angel had no idea what it was, but it didn't smell like a horse. Did he do that on purpose, or was it the strange scent of a he-she?

She examined his face since she was there, following its lines. If she hadn't seen his other end, it would be easy to agree that this was a stallion. He had the muscles for it, she decided. Yes, built like a stallion. She trailed a single claw along one such muscle, making that leg kick a little as she followed it down.

Angel smiled a little, clearly bemused by the reaction, but her investigation continued. She moved her head back, looking over the big bright picture on his rump. All ponies had a picture there. Some were simple, some were ornate. His leaned towards the ornate, with a big golden trashcan glittering. It was slightly open, with sparkling purple stuff spilling out in a swirl. What did that mean? Well, it was a bright gold thing with sparkles coming out. He was a source of shinies, clearly.

He was the shiny pony. Angel nodded with growing certainty. Moving back a little more, she arrived at the centerpiece of the confusion. There was his contrast. Just under his tail as she nosed it aside was the ring of his anus and beneath that, leathery equine vulva. Soft sniffing revealed that he was healthy, ate well, and was reproductively ready.

Was he in heat? She leaned in a bit closer, sniffing.

"It's polite to ask first," came his sleepy words as he started to stir. "I didn't know we were doing that just yet."

She blinked rapidly and sat up, eyes darting with worry. Had she angered him?

"I didn't say to stop," he sleepily grunted out, looking over his shoulder at Angel. "Go on, if you're curious."

Angel lifted an ear briefly before it fell. It was alright? Well... She leaned back in and resumed her sniffing, trying to puzzle out the scent before her. No, not in estrus, she decided, just healthy, so far as she could tell. She was not a boy, she knew that. Were they better at knowing when a girl was in that special time? She wasn't sure. With a thoughtful huff, her breath washed out over his lips.

And they winked. Her eyes widened with shock at the sight of his lips moving on their own, unfolding like a strange flower just to clap shut again. Hers hadn't done that before! She glanced back at her big tail, frowning a little. Had it? She certainly never saw it do that...

"Done back there?" He slid up to his hooves, casually flopping from the bed, shaking out his body as he went. "Now don't you get any strange ideas. I'm a 'he'." He raised a bushy brow at Angel. "And don't you forget it."

Angel squinted a little. All evidence was pointing against that, but if he wanted to be a he... She hopped down easily, mostly sliding from the bed to be at his side. He hadn't yelled at her, not even once. As ponies went, he was not a bad one, being a not-shouting source of shinies. She had slept with him, in the same room. She inclined her head left and right in almost a metronome's regularity.

"You're looking especially thoughtful today." He wandered towards a large mirror, his magic grabbing a brush and working it through his mane. "How do they..." He glanced over when he saw her looking. "I usually have the maids do this. They know how to get my mane to sit the way I like it."

Angel awkwardly stepped over to him and sat down right behind him. She looked to his unkempt mane and the floating brush, then reached for it, snatching it away from his magic. He struggled against her briefly, the glow of his magic flaring brightly as she inexorably drew it away. He burst into laughter as she popped it free. "Really want that, do you? You can ask, Angel."

She tilted her head at him. "Have?"

"Sure, since you asked nicely." He inclined an ear at her, but was facing away from her. She started, noticing that he actually was looking at her, gazing into the mirror and meeting her eyes without turning around. "Hello there," he called, noticing her spotting his gaze. "What are you going to do with that brush?"

Angel tilted the brush up and down, experimenting with its heft as she lifted it powerfully enough that it left her paw a moment before she caught it on the way down. With a slightly more confident smile, she brought it down towards Trash's mane and began working it through the unruly hair. Her other paw moved in, taking hold of it as she began grooming him. "Mate."

Both of his ears jerked up at that word. "Hey, darling, my little angel of bling, we just met. We aren't mates just yet."

Angel kept right on brushing, fussing diligently through his mane. She met his eyes through the mirror. "Burrow mate," she explained. "Trash, Angel. Burrow mate. Burrow mate groom." She was no expert at how a brush worked, but she was clearly determined to try to restore his mane to something approaching how it appeared the night before. "Good burrow mate."

"Yeah, good burrow mate." He angled an ear back, only for it to be caught in the brush. Suddenly it was being groomed along with his mane, the soft bristles running over it in a soft tempo. "Fair's fair. Gonna make you so pretty."

Angel paused a moment, sitting up. "Groom?"

"The Trash way." He stood up and reached out a hoof. Various bits and bobs they had left on the ground the night before began to float up. "Time to rise and shine, my lovely angel! You just sit back and let Trash Prince make you shine."

"Groom. Trash groom, Angel groom." Though her eyes kept darting towards the shiny things, she resumed her brushing, working the brush not just through his mane but starting to work through the rest of his pelt, intent in her duty.

"Yeah, we'll groom together." He had a lazy but satisfied smile as he began to adorn Angel. He worked wings onto her ears, one after the other. "You have so much ear to attach bling to, I'm a little jealous. There is so much of all of you, my big blinging momma." He clopped his forehooves together with a pleased expression, his magic slipping a glittering chain around her neck and fastening it in place. "Nopony will be confused who's your friend."

Angel looked up at herself in the mirror, her movements slowing a moment as she beheld her form becoming that glittering avatar of shinies she had set down the night before. "Trash good groom." She smiled a little and pressed the brush against his side, working through his fur in slow firm strokes. "Angel good groom?"

"You're doing fine." He didn't sound entirely certain on it, paying far more attention to how he bedecked his new friend and not-pet with jewelry. "Oh, can't forget the cap." The crown floated over, but hesitated. "Mmm, nah. I don't think that's right for today." He waved it away and it floated where it had come from.

Angel pouted a little at not being given the crown and redoubled her brushing efforts. Surely if she brushed well enough, the crown would be given. She just had to get better at it. Special shinies for good burrow mates.

Trash turned slowly, looking her over appraisingly. "Not bad... Not bad at all. Now, you're with me, which means you're royalty."

"What?"

He cocked an easy smirk. "I'm a prince, and you're with me. It means we let other ponies do things." He leaned his head back just a little and let out a shrill whistle.

The door opened instantly, a maid pony entering with a lively trot. "You're up early today, Golden Lash."

Trash scowled at the maid. "I told you to--"

"--Begging your pardon, M'lord, but Princess Celestia's orders." She approached his bed and began making it with a glowing horn. "Did you sleep well, M'lord?"

"Aunty... Look, I have a name, and I like it. Is that too much to ask?" He glanced towards Angel. "Ponies, you know?"

She didn't know. She looked between the maid and Trash curiously. She leveled a fat, ring-adorned, finger at Trash. "Trash."

"See, she knows my name." Trash smiled vindicatedly, crossing his arms across his chest, hooves dangling. "Let's move on. Aunty doesn't think I can teach Angel here some things, can't have that. I want you to show her how to use a brush."

"A brush?" She left the mostly-made bed, approaching Angel directly. "Well aren't you a large one... Angel was it?" When Angel nodded, the maid smiled gently. "I'm House. House the maid. A pleasure to meet you, Angel."

Angel reached out a paw and set it right on House's head, horn going up between two fingers as she gently gave the new pony a soft stroking with her fingers. Ponies were so nice when they weren't shouting.

House laughed gently, patiently tolerating the petting. "Oh, is that the brush?" Her magic glowed around the brush held limply in Angel's other paw, taking it away. "What were you--oh!" She only just then noticed that Trash was looking not entirely bed-maned. "An excellent attempt." She brought the brush over to Trash. "Watch."

Angel's eyes focused on the brush, watching intently as the maid began the work of getting Trash's mane ready for the day. "Mate?"

House's cheeks darkened swiftly. "N-no! I am a servant, not a paramour," she insisted with a shrill worried note to her voice, though her brush never paused in its working. "As a maid, it is my job to help the nobles who live here look their best."

"And House here is one of the better ones, even if she's calling me by my dead name." He rolled his eyes, but sat there, accepting the brushing. "She can get a mane into shape as if it was born that way."

Angel bounced slightly in place, working out some of her nervous energy in her fidgets, though her eyes remained glued on the workings of the brush through Trash's mane, taking note of what different motions were made compared to her own. She hadn't been that far off, but there were many subtle things, too subtle for her to even grasp right away, try as she might. "Groom good."

"I was trained, and now so too shall you." House took the brush and pressed it against Angel's paw, giving it to her. "While Trash goes to handle his business, we will stay here. I will allow you to 'groom' me as I instruct you."

Angel sat up with a growing smile. "Groom, yes. Good pony." She reached for House, running a free hand down along her back. "Good pony."

"I'm not a dog in need of being told of my good nature," she insisted, but her smile was easy. "But I thank you. Go on, M'lord. I'll handle this lesson."

Author's Note

Lesson 1, how to brush a pony. Ponies need good brushing to be happy ponies. We want happy ponies, right? So get a brush and let us begin. That almost become all the lewd, but aborted before the good and/or bad part. Are you disappointed?

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